


Option R

by kuwdora



Category: The Rundown (2003)
Genre: Cooking, M/M, PWP, Porn Battle, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-20
Updated: 2009-06-20
Packaged: 2018-01-27 22:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuwdora/pseuds/kuwdora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Travis scoffed and began removing the dishes from the cabinet. “Mr. Sour-Puss obviously didn’t read his horoscope today.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Option R

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Porn Battle VIII for the prompts: choice, recipe.

“Travis, not now,” Beck commanded, accidentally bumping against Travis’ shoulder when he pushed past and made his way across the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt all the while. He shrugged it off, pushed down the khakis that still smelled of an escargot sauce that spilled all over him at the restaurant. He stepped into the bathroom, flicked on the light and started the shower.

“Don’t you get tired of using me as your punching bag?” Travis asked.

“Yes, believe me, but you don’t give me a choice. A man needs his space,” Beck said and with that he stepped into the shower, grateful of the hot spray running down his back that was still too tight with tension.

“Ooh, see, Big Man, that’s where you’re wrong,” Travis said over the sound of the toilet flushing.

“ _Not now,_ ” Beck said groaned.

“Fine,” Travis said, sounding defeated and at last Beck was left was in peace to clean the grime and day’s tribulations away.

When he stepped out of the shower stall, he found a towel neatly folded beside his threadbare tee and sweats on the bathroom counter. Still wound up from his bad day, Beck wasn’t able to smile as much as he wanted at the thoughtfulness but did towel dry and dressed in silence, knowing full well that Travis was back in the doorway, watching him.

“Option A…” Travis said.

Beck shook his head and loosened the drawstrings; Travis’ waist was significantly smaller than his.

“ _Option A_ , you voluntarily start treating me like a real person, with real feelings and bones that can get hurt and _break_ and I’ll stop joking about domestic abuse when we're in public.”

“Uh-huh,” Beck said dismissively and guided Travis out of the way, heading towards the kitchen.

“Hey, wait up now,” Travis said, sidling along the wall until he walked backwards in front of Beck. “Aren’t you interested in hearing Option B?”

“I’m interested in sitting down and having a nice, _quiet_ evening. There were so many problems at the restaurant tonight. Problems with the oven, problems with the credit card reader, prob—I don’t even want to talk about it,” he said, holding his hands up and reminding himself to _calm. down._ He took a deep breath, grabbed Travis by the shoulders and moved him out of the way again and made a beeline for the wine cabinet.

Travis scoffed and began removing the dishes from the cabinet. “Mr. Sour-Puss obviously didn’t read his horoscope today.”

“I don’t know why you insist on reading that crap,” Beck said, cradling the bottle in his arm while he pulling out the wine glasses and taking his seat at the kitchen island. Travis handed him the wine opener and began spooning whatever he made onto the plates. Beck was too tired to ask or care what Travis attempted to cook tonight, he just closed his eyes and savored the cork’s aroma.

“Because they’re insightful. Like prophecy,” Travis said, continuing to intrude on Beck’s fleeting moments of bliss.

“Because you know it annoys me,” Beck said and poured two glasses.

“You get annoyed too easily. I thought you were working on harnessing your chi,” he said.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re plating,” Beck asked and sipped the wine.

“Like you’re going to be impressed anyway. It’s nothing fancy smancy from your restaurant,” Travis said, sliding the plate in front of him. He then came around and slid onto the stool beside Beck and pointed with his fork while giving Beck the other wrapped up in a cloth napkin.

“Got your zucchini, broccoli, whatever that is--you had it in the veggie drawer, and the last of the carrots. Some brown rice, some chicken and voila. Dinner,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“You've been busy,” Beck said, slightly impressed.

“Like I said, nothing fancy. Wasn’t that hard, but it’s not that good. Butter and olive oil, some lemon pepper that you like so much.”

“Well, at least you’ve been listening to me when I tell you it’s the little details that make a simple dish great,” Beck said and Travis punched him in the shoulder affectionately.

“There’s some ice cream in the freezer, too,” Travis added, digging in.

Beck smiled after a mouthful of rice and vegetables.

“Nice,” he said.

“Yeah?’

“It's good. Real good.”

“Cool,” Travis said, brimming with a certain amount of pride that wasn’t lost on Beck. Beck gave him a brief grin before he had another bite. He chewed, swallowed and cleared his voice.

“So you were talking about options before.”

“Oh, so you actually heard me. And I thought you were going to need a hearing aid,” he said.

“Travis…”

“Alright, alright. Option A—”

“You already said Option A. What’s Option B?” Beck asked and went for another sip of wine.

“Option B is a little more difficult.”

“Is it now,” Beck said flatly, trying to restrain a laugh.

“Option B is where I _make you_ stop treating me like a crash test dummy and ignore me when it suits your fancy.”

Beck licked his fork and stared at Travis with the imposing stare he wore when he was still collecting bounties.

“Oh, don’t think you can scare me. I’ve got Option B all planned out.”

“I see you’ve done a lot of thinking about this,” Beck said and took another bite of zucchini and carrots. It wasn’t a complicated taste, but it was flavorful enough. But more than that, Beck was sure his stomach was happy with the care and attentiveness that went into putting it together in the first place.

“I have. And I know that you’d refuse both options, so I have a more fair option for you.”

“Option C?”

“Option _R_ ,” Travis corrected, pushing his plate away.

“R doesn’t come after B,”

Travis rolled his eyes and pushed Beck’s plate away. "It does when it comes from the Travis Walker Guidebook." He cleared his throat.

“Option R is where we arm wrestle in order to decide how it’s all going to go down, because I know you're not going to willingly chose either option. If I win, I’m opening up a can of Option B-grade whoop ass on you. If you win, I’ll promise not to make stupid jokes and not leave the dirty laundry anywhere but the basket for a whole month. _And_ I’ll do the dishes without complaining.”

Beck pulled the plate back and stabbed at a piece of chicken and chewed thoughtfully, considering the option. He reached for the napkin and wiped his hands.

“Add in a half dozen blowjobs and you’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, placing his elbow on the onyx counter top.

Travis grinned and propped his elbow up.

“Are you ready to be squashed, Big Man?”

“Bring it on, Beck said.

“1… 2… 3, _go_ ” Travis grunted, throwing his weight into Beck’s arm. Beck cocked his head to the side and leaned back in his seat, watching Travis fumble for a moment, his arm not budging. But the grin that slid onto Travis’ face worried him, especially when Travis stopped pushing, stopped resisting and Beck pushed Travis’ arm down. An easy win.

“What was that?” Beck asked.

“Little bit of strategy,” Travis said with a shrug and clenched Beck’s hand. He hopped off the stool and fit himself between Beck’s legs, pressing his lips to his jaw and neck. Beck inhaled deeply and let himself be awkwardly pressed against the island because Travis pushed up his shirt and began playing with the drawstrings of his pants.

“Strategy?” Beck asked, kicking himself for the way his voice cracked. Travis ignored Beck’s lips and instead bent to kiss the muscled solar plexus, hands trying to coax Beck from the stool.

“Mmhm,” Travis murmured not-so-eloquently and palmed Beck’s hardening bulge.

Travis dropped to his knees. “I’m going to let you do _anything_ you want to me,” Travis said into Beck’s crotch. “And then you’re going to stop walking all over me because you’ll realize what a complete package I am.” He pulled the sweats down over his cock. “And decide to treat me with respect,” he said and took Beck into his mouth.

Beck closed his eyes and steadied himself against the stool, one hand threading into Travis’ scruffy hair.

“That’s… some pretty good strategy,” Beck admitted, quickly losing the ability to string the words together. “But are you sure you… want.. _oh_.. To take the risk? What if it backfires? Got any back up plans?”

There was a lewd pop as Travis pulled his lips from Beck’s cock. He stood, dusted his hands and knees and shrugged nonchalantly at him, walking backwards towards the bedroom.

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve,” he said his the over-the-top sly Walker manner.

Beck looked down at his lonely cock. He yanked his shirt from his back and followed Travis who lounged like a cat on the bed, hands locked behind his head.

“Oh, we’re done with clothes now?” Travis asked and sat up, pulling his own navy tee off and tried to flatten his rakish hair.

Beck shimmied out of the sweats and pinned Travis before he could move any further. “You’re such a smart ass,” Beck said and captured Travis’ mouth in a lip bruising kiss before he could reply.

Travis clenched at Beck’s thigh and fidgeted until Beck leaned away and grabbed Travis’ wrists.

“Well, if my ass is so smart, why don’t you come in and look around and see what makes it so smart. Stay awhile, have some tea and cookies,” he said, flashing him another wild grin.

“ _Travis_ ,” Beck hissed, annoyance and exasperation and endearment all wrapped up in his voice. Traivs’ lips curled into a wanton smile, eyes lowering and he arched into Beck. Beck pushed a solid hand on his crotch, shoving it back down to the mattress.

“Stay it again,” Travis murmured demurely, trying to thrust against Beck’s hand.

“Travis, where is it?” he asked.

“Under the pillow,” Travis said without opening his eyes.

Beck let go of Travis’ wrist long enough to find the bottle of lube, using the other to knead Travis' crotch.

“Shall I assume the position?” he asked.

“You shall,” Beck said and lathered himself up while watching Travis shake himself free of the jeans. But instead of crawling onto all fours, Travis pushed Beck onto his back and grab both their cocks in his hand and stroked.

“Travis,” Beck said, bucking into Travis’ slick hand, but trying to pry the hand from his cock. It felt great, _really_ great, but it wasn't what he wanted, what he needed.

“Mmm?”

“S’nottheposition.”

“Mmm,” Travis said sucked on his collarbone.

Beck inhaled deeply and rolled them until Travis was on his back, smirking up at him.

“Now you’re talkin,” Travis said, pulling his shoulders together and tilted his head back.

“You don’t ever shut up,” Beck said and squeezed Travis cock until his face contorted into something hovering between pain and pleasure.

“Well,” Travis choked out and gasped when Beck began pumping him hard.

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Beck said, placing tender kiss on Travis’ chin and sat up to wait for Travis to roll over onto hands and knees. He squeezed Travis’ ass and parted his cheeks, blowing on the puckered opening, his own knees feeling weak when Travis shivered and barked out an anxious laugh.

“You said anything,” Beck warned.

“Anything, anything,” Travis babbled and fumbled to pump himself until Beck pushed him forward, forcing him to use both hands for balance. When Beck sank deep enough he slammed his eyes shut and exhaled. The pressure surrounding his cock was forcing the wellspring of pent-up lust to the surface and Beck was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Travis arched his hips upward and Beck steadied them and stroked his thigh, ending the pet with a decisive slap.

“Anything?” Beck echoed and Travis lowered his face into the pillow to muffle his groan, the meaty _yes_ lost in the cotton.

Beck squeezed Travis’ shoulders and Beck placed a kiss in between them s and finally began pounding hard enough that Travis lifted his head off the pillow and gasped sharply, calling his name, asking for more.

He pumped Travis several times and thrust several more, alternating frequently enough that Travis came quicker than he anticipated, semen lacing his fingers and sheets below.

“Beck—wait, slow—” Travis whined and gasped and bucked back into Beck’s weight which only caused him to whine even more.

Beck chuckled and bit down on his shoulder, waiting until Travis had gone through the orgasmic motions. Travis shook his head faceplanted in the pillow in front of him, trying to catch his breath.

“This was your Option R, remember?” Beck said.

“‘I ‘member… Beck, can I..” Travis looked over his shoulder at him. “See you?”

Beck nodded and ran his fingers along Travis’ thighs before pulling out so Travis could roll onto his back but Travis grunted and sat up right away.

“Gross,” he murmured and yanked the wet sheet down before collapsing again.

He parted his legs and relaxed, closing his eyes and shuddering when Beck pushed at his entrance. His dug his fingers into Travis’ hips, using them for balance and resumed thrusting erratically.

Travis reached behind his neck and pulled him down for an open-mouthed kiss that slowed Beck’s pace. Beck nipped at his lower lip and growled quietly into the hollow of his neck, making Travis erupt in another fit of laughter.

“God, I love you when you’re like this,” Travis hummed, his grunts increasing in volume the longer Beck slammed into him, relishing tight burning around his cock and Travis clenching and writhing beneath him. Beck was sure he was still talking, but he was beyond the point where he could parse the words.

He felt nails scraping at his back, his arms and pressing deep against the side of his neck as he reached his climax. Travis’ legs were suddenly hooked around his back and rode Beck through his orgasm until he fell to his elbows, cock barely falling out of Travis.

After a long moment of heavy breathing Travis clears his throat.

“So. How’s that Option working out for you?"

Beck bit back his laugh and instead slapped Travis’ stomach. He he finally pulled out collapsed onto his back and Travis sighed too loudly. “S’looks like it’s working out well for me,” he said and stretched, sated, cocky, even with the sweat matted hair pressed against his forehead. That wouldn’t do.

Beck rolled onto his side, pillowing his face on his arm tweaked Travis’ nipple.

“Ow! Hey!” Travis cried and batted Beck’s hand away.

Beck grinned and pulled Travis by the wrist close enough to kiss him on the lips.

“It _is_ a nice strategy,” he whispered and patted Travis' cheek.


End file.
